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Mike trudged toward the cabin, ignoring the blaring music and the only chance he’d have to make one friend in Rocky Ridge.
CHAPTER THREE
Rose darted in through the back door of the restaurant. On top of sleeping late, she’d forgotten to put mascara on one eye, and she was having a terrible hair day. To add insult to injury, she was out of breath, and she didn’t have any hope that another server would be able to loan her some makeup to fix the lopsided look she was sporting.
First things first, she needed to get in and avoid Mr. Cline so she didn’t get in trouble for her tardiness.
Too late.
Mr. Cline blocked her path to the timecards. He lifted his dark brows, that forever judgmental look on his face. Rose knew he wouldn’t be thrilled that she was late. This was the third time since she’d started waitressing.
She grimaced as she stopped in front of him. “Hi, Mr. Cline.”
“Rose.” He lifted his watch, glancing at it so quickly he couldn’t possibly have seen the time. “You’re fifteen minutes late for your shift. Lacey’s been covering your section. Again.”
Rose flinched. “I know. I’m so sorry.” She had a million excuses, but that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. She could tell him that she’d been having a bad string of luck. Heck, she could even try to get out of this strained conversation by blaming hormones.
Instead, she lowered her gaze and took a deep breath. “I’ll stay late and deep clean the bathrooms.”
When she peeked at him, his cooled demeanor seemed to have warmed a little. Mr. Cline moved to the side, giving her access to clock in. Seventeen minutes late.
Rose scurried away. The last thing she wanted to do was complain about the two minutes he’d taken from her shift for that short lecture. She made it around the partition where the waitresses could get their black aprons and nearly collided with someone. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she stopped short.
Lacey Tipton stared at her in shock for what felt like a full minute. Then she let out a laugh. “Sweetie, what happened?”
Rose’s hand moved from her chest to cover her left eye—the one that didn’t have mascara. “You don’t have a tube on you, by chance?”
Lacey popped one hip and laughed again. “Of course, I do. Who would I be if I didn’t have an emergency stash of makeup?” She moved toward the few cubbies where the staff kept their belongings and grabbed a small blue purse. She glanced at Rose again, her smirk more irritating than before. “Rough morning?”
“Rough week,” Rose muttered.
“Here. And you only have one table so far. I got their menus, silverware, and some waters. They haven’t ordered yet.”
“Thanks,” Rose whispered, ducking down to a nearby napkin dispenser so she could apply her makeup. It wasn’t the best job, but she didn’t have much time. She handed the tube of mascara to Lacey and grabbed her apron. With deft fingers, she tied the knot behind her back. “I owe you.”
Lacey pulled Rose in for a hug. “Of course, girlie. Hopefully today goes a little better.” She pulled back and crossed her fingers on both hands. “Here’s to good tips.”
Rose nodded her agreement and hurried out to the table. For the next hour, she allowed herself to go on auto pilot. She was lucky she had this job. Out of everything she could have in this small town, a waitressing gig was nothing to sneeze at.
The pay was decent, allowing her to slowly put more money into her savings. Ninety percent of the people she served were kind and generous. And other than her boss, the people she worked with made it sorta fun to come in for her shift.
Lacey was one of her favorites, and luckily she was usually working the same shift as Rose—at least she had been since Rose started. Still, the failure of her gallery was like a bullet that had become lodged in her heart.
The shrapnel threatened to move to more dangerous places as she thought about the unsold stock she still had in storage. Part of the agreement she’d made with Ethan meant selling the stock to recoup the money he’d spent to get the lenders off her back.
With her savings gone and all her contacts in another state, she didn’t have much faith that she’d unload any of it.
“Rose!”
She jumped, her eyes searching for the person who’d said her name. Lacey waved a hand at her and gestured toward another table in her section. How had she missed that the hostess had seated them? Face burning, she gathered a pair of menus and silverware.
“Good afternoon, folks. How are you doing today?” The smile she pasted on her face felt stretched and worn out. A long time ago, she might have thought her eyes could shine, but they had since lost their sparkle. She couldn’t think about that right now. She had work to do. “May I give you a rundown of the specials?”
The two elderly women smiled back. One put her menu down, her face crinkling with enough smile lines to make Rose believe she’d had a good life. “We’d love to hear the specials.”
Rose hugged her small clipboard to her chest. “Have you ever been here before?”
“Oh, it’s been ages, hasn’t it, Ethel?”
